I quickly sent a small prayer up and climbed out of my car. I had waited a few minutes until it calmed down. It was just drizzling now, so I took that as the perfect time to enter the 911 center without having to get soaked again.
I certainly would look like a wet poodle.
The building is smaller than the one back home. It's also right next to the police station, makes me feel a little safe to leave, and be able to walk to my car safely.
I double-check to make sure that I locked my car before heading inside. I probably shouldn't have eaten this morning. I'm too nervous. My stomach feels like butterflies are flying around it, and it's not as pleasant as some would think. It's making me nauseous.
I pull open the door, and I see a guy typing away. They don't keep the 911 operators in the main room. They have their office so that visitors do not disturb them. This guy must be the secretary.
Plastering a small smile on my face, I head towards him. He is either too busy or being rude and doesn't even bother to notice that I'm walking up towards him.
Good thing I don't have a gun or something.
I came to a stop in front of his desk and waited patiently. Looking around the room, I see the wall of the operator of the month. I was an operator of the month several times back in my hometown.
One call in particular I can never forget. A teenager girl had called 911 one night, and I was on duty. I have never had to deal with a kidnapped before and was pretty shaken up at first. The kidnapper didn't take her phone from her, which was stupid of him, but great news for the poor girl. She didn't carry it in her pants pocket. No, she kept it in her bra.
Smart girl.
She came from a lower-class family and didn't have a contract phone, so we couldn't trace it. She had a pre-paid phone brought from Walmart; I think. I had to keep her calm, and it wasn't easy. She was screaming and crying as she tried to explain her situation to me.
Once we found out we were unable to trace her phone, I had her feel around the floor of the trunk. The man had cleaned it out, so she had little to work with, but I had seen a movie where this girl had used her feet to kick out a taillight. I made her to that.
It had taken her several tries, and her cries of frustration had moved me to tears.
Yet she managed to pull it off.
The right taillight shattered, and I made her wave her hand through the gap. Her wrist ached from the snug fit, but she had no other option. She had no other way for us to find her but that. Motorists trailing behind the vehicle that was carrying the kidnapped girl had begun calling police.
The asshole who kidnapped her is now sitting in jail after we located him and rushing her to the hospital.
For everyone's sake, I pray he never gets out of prison.
That night, when I finally laid my head down on my pillow, I cried. Cried for the girl who almost was never seen again. The police questioned the man who kidnapped her, and he told him what his plans for her were. It was disgusting is all I will say.
The man behind the counter still didn't look up. I would rather not be late for my interview, all because he didn't pay awareness to the front door.
I raised my left hand and gently knocked on the counter to get his attention. " Hi, I'm Avery Scallan. I'm here for an interview with Mr. Whitlock."
The now startled man jerked his green eyes towards me and quickly took his earbuds out.
That would explain why he didn't hear me walk up. I guess that's a better reason than him being rude.
"I'm sorry," he winced but continued, "I was listening in on a call. I'm hoping to be an operator in the near future. I keep failing my evaluation because I become too hesitant and give the wrong answers. I had to beg the boss man to let me listen in on a few calls so I could get more comfortable."
"Ah okay. That's no problem. I was uneasy when I first took my test. It's a natural thing. We have to deal with many situations, and the people who are calling here are not always in the right frame of mind," I mumbled.
I completely understand now.
I still think he should watch that door. You never know if a bad person will come in here intending to harm the operator that helped catch him, but I don't tell him that. I keep it to myself.
Making waves at my new job on the first day is most definitely not on my to-do list.
"So, you're here for an interview?" He asked while typing something into his computer but kept his eyes on me.
That's a promising start. He can type without looking at the keyboard. Sometimes, in high-pressure situations, we have to type fast. At least he got that going for him.
"Yes. I just moved into town. Yesterday. When I came to sign the papers, I stopped by hoping they had a spot open. Lucky for me, they did," I mumbled.
I don't know why I just gave all that information to a stranger, but I guess I had been longing for company that i forgot my rule.
Never give too much information to someone you do not know. Over the years, I have seen a lot of bad things, and I'd rather be safe than be sorry.
"Yes, I see you are scheduled to meet the boss man in five minutes. Let me just buzz him to let him know that you're here," he said while pressing and buttoning on top of his desk.
"Yeah?" Came a rough sounding voice that flows through the little speaker.
"Avery Scallan is here to see you, sir. Says she got an interview," he states before sending me a supportive smile.
"She is on time. Good. Let her know I'll be with her shortly," the man who, I take it to be, Mr. Whitlock said before ending the connection.
"I know what you're thinking. He sounds harsh. Is he mean?" The guy behind the counter laughed.
I wasn't assuming anything.
I mean, yeah, the man sounded a little rough, but that doesn't always mean someone is mean. I'm more of a "don't judge a book" by its cover kind of woman.
"Actually, I wasn't, but he sounds a bit rough," I giggled. I'm started to get nervous about this interview. I really hope I nail it. I should be able to.
"He is a really nice man to work for. He rotates us on holidays. The workers who have children get to be home for Christmas. He gives us bonuses. I don't have kids, so I'm always stuck working Christmas, but I don't mind. Crime never stops. Not even for Santa." The man sighed.
Ain't that the truth?
No day is safe from the evil that walks this world.
"Yeah you're right," I whispered.
I didn't know what else to say to that because he was completely right. I can't even count on one hand how many times something evil had happened on Christmas.
Two years ago, on Christmas day, a man woke up and decided to kill his entire family, and I mean the entire family. He waited until his parents got there, his in-laws and even his wife's siblings. He didn't shoot them. He didn't hurt them in any way. What he chose to do was something else.
He poisoned the food.
I didn't get that call, but I heard it happening. The next-door neighbor remembered seeing all those people arrive at the home. Later that night, when she went to put her dog out to use the bathroom, she had seen all the lights still on but no movement inside the home.
Good thing she was a nosy neighbor.
"Names Sean." The man behind the desk said, but I didn't fully hear him. I was caught inside my head thinking about that poor family. Those kids didn't even get to open all their Christmas gifts.
"I'm sorry?" I asked.
"Name. It's Sean."
"Oh. Nice to meet you, Sean. I was caught inside my head for a moment. Talking about Christmas and bad things had brought up a call from years ago," I whispered, hoping he would understand.
"It must take a toll," Sean said and looked at me with concern.
This type of concern I can deal with. Just not the one like I was steadily receiving back in my hometown.
"Occasionally. I try my best to leave those calls at work, but every so often, those terrible calls keep me up at night. I'm sure it's the same way with others as well. We are not robots," I said.
"How long have you worked in a 911 center before?" He asked, leaned his elbows on his desk, and looked curious.
"Since I was old enough to work. It was my first job. it's been years, honestly," I tell him.
I'm not going to lie, I'm so nervous about this interview that my mind can't even think about how long I have been doing my job. The answer is even in the folder I'm holding.
"What made you want to start working for the 911 center?" He asked, not understanding that I'm nervous and actually wants to continue being nosey when I'm not in the mood to answer.
"Um -"
"Sorry, I'm being rude. I promise I'm not a gossip or anything like that. I just really want to be behind a call desk instead of this desk," Sean sighed and leaned his face into his hands. " I choke too much. Boss man gave me a chance behind that desk, and I blew it. He thought maybe it was him just making me nervous, but it wasn't. He let me take a call, thank goodness it was not too major, just a man had fallen, but I couldn't calm his wide down go get any information,'
"I'm sorry, but sometimes people are not cut out to handle being behind those desks," I informed him.
I didn't understand why I sounded annoyed. I didn't even mean to, but the look of concern on his face just got to me for a minute.
"Sometimes, I don't think I'll be tough enough to deal with that. My boyfriend says I'm too tender-hearted, and those calls will keep me up at night." Sean sighed softly. "I'm already scared of the dark," he mumbled.
So, Sean's into men.
"Maybe your boyfriend is right, but you never know until you try. My ex-boyfriend didn't like the long hours that I worked and fought with me all the time about it. But this job is important. We don't make a lot of banks, but we help people."
"Avery Scallan?" That same rough voice I had heard moments again reaches my ears, and I swing my gaze towards the back door, and I see who I hope to be my new boss.
"Yes, sir" I said softly and waved my hand like a student in a school that's answering attendance.
Don't be silly, Avery.
You're a grown woman.
Act like it, I scold myself.